


A Strong Shoulder

by enigmaticblue



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2011-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully didn’t want to let Mulder out of her sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strong Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt, "alien abduction"

Scully didn’t want to let Mulder out of her sight. The doctors had finally released him from the hospital, and he had insisted on going back to his apartment. Scully understood his desire; he’d been gone a long time, and he wanted to reclaim some semblance of his old life.

 

She understood that, but she’d buried him not too long ago, and she wanted his physical as reassurance that he was really alive.

 

Scully moved around her own apartment restlessly. The sun had gone down, and it was getting late, but she couldn’t seem to sit still, even though her feet ached. She had to resist the urge to call Mulder, just to hear his voice.

 

What she really wanted was a glass of wine, but that was out of the question, so she brewed a pot of herbal tea and tried to settle on the couch.

 

The local news couldn’t hold her attention, so she flipped through the channels, glancing longingly at the phone.

 

The knock on the door came as a surprise around ten, and Scully heaved herself up off the couch, one hand on her back for support. A quick glance through the peephole had her hurrying to open the door.

 

Mulder stood there, a crooked grin on his face, his eyes a little lost, a little vulnerable. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Scully replied. “Come on in.”

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, slipping inside.

 

“No, not at all. Do you want some tea?”

 

Mulder shrugged. “Sure.”

 

As she put the kettle back on, Mulder wandered around her apartment, as though reacquainting himself with the place. He touched the frames around her photographs, the spine of the book she’d been reading. He drifted into the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to the stove.

 

“Are you okay?” Scully asked quietly.

 

Mulder hitched a shoulder and offered the same crooked smile. “I’m alive.”

 

“That’s not really an answer.”

 

“I’m not sure I have an answer to give you,” Mulder murmured. “I keep expecting to wake up and find out it’s been a dream.”

 

“That’s understandable,” Scully replied quietly.

 

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there.”

 

Scully felt her heart break just a little bit. “Oh, Mulder.” She reached for him, pulling him as close as she could with her belly in the way. Mulder held on tightly, his forehead pressed against the top of her head.

 

She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of his t-shirt, and the warmth of his strong shoulder underneath.

 

“Stay here tonight.”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Mulder murmured into her hair.

 

Scully chuckled. “I thought you wanted to be alone.”

 

“I thought I did, too.”

 

“Do you still want that tea?” she asked, keeping her arms around him.

 

“Not really,” Mulder admitted. “You have to be tired.”

 

“A little.” She was exhausted, but she’d spent the last six months hiding her pregnancy, particularly how much it took out of her. Scully had wanted this baby so badly, she didn’t feel as though she had the right to complain. “Come to bed, Mulder.”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he repeated with an impish grin.

 

Scully laughed. “Come on.”

 

She found a spare toothbrush for him to use, and they moved around each other carefully. Things were a little awkward because Mulder kept forgetting about her pregnancy; he kept misjudging the amount of space she needed, and he would bump into her and then stare at her protruding belly as though it was brand new.

 

Scully climbed into bed first, her movements clumsy, laying down on her side with her back to Mulder. She felt the mattress sag as he got into bed next to her, and Scully felt him tuck in close, his arm going around her waist, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

 

“Is this okay?” Mulder asked.

 

“It’s perfect,” Scully replied.

 

Mulder’s hand fanned out on her belly, and the baby kicked. “Is that—” Mulder stopped. “I can feel it kicking.”

 

Scully sniffed, realizing once again how lucky they’d been. “Yeah, that happens.”

 

Mulder pulled her a little closer. “Didn’t I tell you, Scully? You never give up on a miracle.”

 

She gripped his hand where it rested on her baby. “You were right.”

 

“Can I get that in writing?” he asked, a note of mischief in his voice.

 

Scully laughed and blinked back tears. “Don’t push your luck, Mulder.” 


End file.
